Page 38 of Written in the Stars
“You’re cruel, Darce. After everything I’ve done for you”—he gestured to Elle—“andthisis how to repay me? By mocking me?”
Another burst of feedback filtered over the speakers followed by the first question.
Between Elle’s knowledge of the physical sciences, Brendon’s knowledge of the tech industry, their shared knowledge of pop culture, and Darcy’s knowledge of everything from seventeenth-century painters to fashion designers to baseball, they answered nearly every question correctly, tying them for the lead with two other teams.
Elle had reached the fun stage of tipsiness where the lights in the bar were bright and the tip of her nose was numb, when the emcee cleared his throat to ask the final question.
Elle sucked the dregs of her cocktail through the straw as Darcy gripped the pencil in her hand, teeth sunk into her bottom lip.
“The 1999 Emmy for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series went to Susan Lucci for playing what character on the ABC daytime dramaAll My Children?”
Several things happened in quick succession.
The bar fell silent, save for several exasperated groans filtering through the crowd.
Standing so fast he knocked his chair over, Brendon dropped to one knee and pointed at Darcy.
All eyes in the bar on her, Darcy froze. “Get up,” she hissed. A pink, mottled flush crept up her neck.
Brendon tilted his head, gaze narrowing. “Darcy.”
She shut her eyes, mumbled something beneath her breath, then scribbled something on the paper before flinging it at Brendon, their designated runner who flailed his way to the front of the bar, panting as he reached the bewildered emcee.
They were the only team to submit an answer, the question stumping everyone.
Everyone except Darcy, who stared down at the table, lips pinched and face red, wringing her hands together anxiously atop the table.
The emcee shook his head and brought the microphone to his mouth. “Erica Kane was correct. Table three for the win!”
It took a split second for Elle to realize the exultant scream was coming from her own mouth. Darcy Lowell, gorgeous tight-ass with a head for numbers and no room for Elle’s frivolity, watchedsoap operas?
Elle’s feet moved disconnected from her brain. Before she knew it, she had rounded the table and was throwing her armsaround Darcy’s neck, wrapping her up in an eager hug that pressed their bodies together.
Darcy tensed in Elle’s arms, body rigid as a board. Elle held her breath and was primed to let go, when Darcyfinallyreturned Elle’s embrace. For all that her wit was cutting, her tongue barbed, and her jaw a pretty knife’s-edge cliff, hugging Darcy was anything but sharp. From the lavender-scented silk of her hair against Elle’s cheek to the swell of her breasts pressed against Elle, Darcy’s hug was all softness and the last thing Elle wanted was to let go.
Houston, she had a problem.
Chapter Eight
Don’t think about itbecame Darcy’s mantra as she followed her brother out of the pub and onto the sidewalk, Elle floating along at her side. Every other step, Elle would sway into Darcy, arms bumping, the backs of their hands, their fingers, brushing.
Don’t think about it.
It could’ve gone worse, this double date. Sure, Elle had delighted in watching Darcy squirm with each pet name uttered, but there’d been no giant blowup. No fights or spilled wine or ruined silk dresses or sudden disappearances that made Darcy’s chest ache. They’d managed to set aside their differences, their distinctly different ways of looking at the world, in order to come together and solve the puzzle, winning the escape room. Brendon was right. Teamwork really had made the dream work even if she had, at first, been reluctant to trust something as imprecise as Elle’sgut.
They’d escaped the room, won trivia, and as far as Darcycould tell, Brendon was none the wiser that this thing with Elle was all an act. All in all, the night had been a success.
Save for the part where Elle’s bright, twinkling laughter made Darcy dizzy. Or how the look of unadulterated joy on Elle’s face when those balloons and that annoying confetti had rained down on them made Darcy feel like someone had punched her in the gut, then chopped her off at the knees.
But she wasn’t thinking about that. No. She wasn’t going to think about how smooth Elle’s skin, her thigh, had felt beneath that table, how she’d wanted to stay hidden by the tablecloth. She wasn’t going to think about how Elle’s breath had tickled her neck during that hug or how Elle’s lip had brushed her jaw as she lowered back down from where she’d risen up on her tippy-toes and flung her arms around Darcy’s neck.
No, Darcy wasn’t going to give oxygen to that... thatspark. If she breathed life into it, it would grow and that—
Darcy curled her toes inside her boots, nails biting into the palms of her hands. Shedefinitelywasn’t going to think about what might transpire if she let that happen because it was pointless. Elle was technicolor chaos and the feelings she inspired in Darcy were a hazard straight out of Pandora’s box. Treacherous andconfusingand better kept under lock and key. Darcy didn’t need disorder in her life.
Elle stopped walking and jerked her chin to the right. “Hey, so, I’m this way.”
She opened her mouth to say good night, when Brendon frowned and shook his head. “Where’s your place?”
